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"No," murmured the king, "D'Argens will certainly not come; he will remain quietly in his beloved bed, and from there write me a touching epistle concerning the bonds of friendship. I know that when feeling does not flow from the hearts of men, it flows eloquently from ink as a pitiful compensation. But," he continued after a pause, "this is all folly!
I must apply to the commandant of Berlin, and ask that he be arrested upon my responsibility." Marietta was already at the door, but these words of the marquis arrested her. With her hand resting upon the bolt, she stood and turned her pale face back to D'Argens.
"I have passed my winter like a Carthusian monk," he writes to D'Argens: "I dine alone; I spend my life in reading and writing; and I do not sup. When one is sad, it becomes at last too burdensome to hide one's grief continually; and it is better to give way to it by oneself, than to carry one's gloom into society.
They were wholly occupied with this curious adventure; they had forgotten her disgrace. They thought only of Cocceji's passionate love, and declared he was jealous as a Turk. So Barbarina had gained her purpose. Early the next morning a plain, simple equipage stood at the gate of the new park in Potsdam. The king and the Marquis D'Argens entered the carriage alone.
Your night is passed, Sans-Souci; you will be again warmed by the sunbeams from your master's eyes!" The king smilingly drew his enthusiastic friend back to his seat. "You are, and always will be a child an overgrown child." "Sire," said D'Argens, "that is because I am pious.
To his friend D'Argens he wrote soon after his defeat: "Death is sweet in comparison to such a life as mine. Have pity on me and it; believe that I still keep to myself a great many evil things, not wishing to afflict or disgust anybody with them, and that I would not counsel you to fly these unlucky countries if I had any ray of hope; Adieu, mon cher!"
The gentlemen in the antechamber amused themselves guessing who the stranger who had just arrived could be; and they had all arrived at the unanimous conclusion that it must be the Marquis d'Argens, as the door opened, and the stranger entered. He asked for the adjutant on duty, and, as the latter was pointed out to him, he stepped toward him with an air of quiet dignity.
"And in wafers made of meal and water?" said Frederick, interrupting him; "and now tell me, marquis, will you also one day seek Him thus?" "Yes, sire," said D'Argens, after a short pause, "I will do thus from friendship to my brothers, and interest for my family." "That is to say, you will be unfaithful to the interests of philosophy and truth?"
Truly, you have a right to this rare faith; you, at least, are capable of such an affection. I am vain enough to believe that you are unselfishly devoted to me." "God be thanked for this word!" said D'Argens, with a glowing countenance. "And now let Voltaire and the seven wise men, and Father Abraham himself come; your Isaac fears none of them; my king has faith in me!"
Say what you will, D'Argens, I have still a heart, though the world has gnawed at and undermined it fearfully." "Yes, sire, a great, noble, warm heart," cried D'Argens, deeply moved, "full of love and poetry, of magnanimity and mercy!"
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